


Love & Soul

by TheLonelyJournalKeeper



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Arranged Marriage, Bad Parenting, Betrayal, Child Neglect, F/M, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Eros and Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Loneliness, Mythology References, Romance, Self-Worth Issues, some weird blend of those two things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24123790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLonelyJournalKeeper/pseuds/TheLonelyJournalKeeper
Summary: Despairing for their daughter's marriage prospects, King Douglas and Queen Priyanka journey to the Oracle at Delphi, seeking guidance. Instead what they receive is a dire warning. They must dress their daughter as they would for her funeral and leave her at the top of the tallest rock spire in the kingdom. Connie is destined to marry a monster.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	1. Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luna_Myth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luna_Myth/gifts).



> okay listen i saw art of eros and psyche and thought it was conniverse (i was having a stroke or something) and i was like haha that's pretty good what if i actually wrote that...haha just kidding... unless?

Connie had never thought she’d end up here—perched precariously on the top of a five hundred foot stone spire at the very edge of her parent’s kingdom, dressed all in black for her own funeral. She should’ve known her end wasn’t fated to be a happy one, should’ve known from the moment she was born the only child of King Douglas and Queen Priyanka. She wasn’t cut out for that level of responsibility. Her parents hadn’t even been able to find her a suitable husband. Her father had gone all the way to the Oracle at Delphi to ask what to do and that was how she’d ended up here. 

_She was going to marry a monster_. That’s what she’d been told, and it was hard to argue with the Oracle of Delphi, but it had been at least ten minutes now, and there was no sign of a monster, just the eerie whistling of the wind through the stone spires. Not that she was hoping for a monster, but she was hoping for _something_. Something that would make her short miserable life make sense. 

As the minutes passed, her despair grew. What sort of horrible trick were the gods playing on her? What was she even doing here? Did even a monster not want to marry her? 

She was just about to—something, run back down the stairs, jump from the spire, burst into tears—when she spotted something on the horizon that made her look twice—a flash of pink. What could that have been? 

Whatever it was, it was growing close. The pink blur on the horizon slowly came into view, revealing itself to be some kind of animal, and Connie’s heart quailed in her chest. Was this the monster that had come for her? A gigantic lion, the color of a pale rose, bounded across the tops of the spires with unnatural agility until it landed on the pillar nearest to hers. 

“Wh-what? Who are _you_?” she called, trying to sound brave. 

The lion did not respond. It glanced up at her, blinked, and yawned. Then in a single, almost lazy bound, it hopped some twenty feet up from its spire up to Connie’s. She stumbled back away from it, but she couldn’t get very far. There was barely room for the pair of them. She closed her eyes.

After a heart-stopping, terrifying moment of silence, she realized the lion wasn’t going to eat her and tentatively opened her eyes. The creature was just looking at her, almost expectantly. 

She frowned, trying to calm her nervous heartbeat. “What do you want from me?” 

The lion didn’t respond. Not that she was expecting it to. Lions didn’t speak usually. But they weren’t usually pink either. It crouched down onto its belly and looked at Connie expectantly. 

After a moment, she understood. “ _Oh_.” She drew a deep breath and climbed onto its back. Its fur was surprisingly soft, not at all like a wild animal. 

Without warning, the creature stood up and bounded off into the night. Connie screamed and clung tightly to its mane with both her hands. She wasn’t especially afraid of heights, but oh, she was afraid of the unknown, and she had no idea where the lion was taking her or why. 

Her confusion only grew as the lion carried her further away from the rock spire. It picked up speed, and then it roared a mighty roar, and a glowing portal of light appeared, hanging in the air in front of them, and Connie understood what was about to happen a moment before it did. 

The lion jumped through the portal, taking Connie with it, and the world around her disappeared.

* * *

“Wow…” Connie gasped as the lion knelt down to let her off its back. She was standing on a beach—the most beautiful beach she had ever seen with pure white sand and sapphire blue waves. On that beach was a house though a house was underselling it. It was closer to a mansion, the largest one she’d ever seen, but it resembled a beach house, made of pale wooden beams with large glass pane windows. The air smelled sweetly of the ocean, and trees dotted the turf, bearing coconuts and mangoes and pineapples though she was certain none of those fruits were in season, certainly not all at the same time. 

The lion, having accomplished its goal, turned a few circles on the sand of the beach and settled down for a nap, leaving Connie to explore her new surroundings on her own. 

“Well, you’re no help,” she told the lion. 

And then she made her way to the beach house, climbing up the stairs to the front door. She half-expected to find it locked, but it wasn’t. The door gave easily when she pushed, like it had just been freshly oiled. 

The interior of the house was as beautiful and magnificent as the outside. Sunlight poured in through the huge windows, spilling over the lush furniture that decorated the front room. It was like paradise made manifest. 

She still had no idea why she was here. Surely, she didn’t belong in a place as beautiful and magical as this, but she was determined to get some answers so she kept walking. She found a kitchen stocked with food from every corner of the planet, a dining room with sparkling crystal chinaware, a greenhouse bursting with plants, and so many other rooms she lost track. At one point, she opened a door, expecting to find another sitting room or guest bedroom, and instead found a storage cupboard stocked with gold bars. 

“What on earth?” she said. “Who could possibly need this much stuff? Who lives here?” 

“You do, mistress,” came a small, squeaky voice. 

Connie jumped. “W-who—who said that?” 

“I did, mistress,” said the voice again. “Down here.” 

Connie felt a tug on the hem of her dress, and she looked down. The voice belonged to a tiny creature no bigger than her fist, grayish in color with a head shaped like a rock and wearing a little patchwork pink dress. 

“Who are you?” Connie said, trying to keep her voice steady. She knelt down to get a closer look at the thing. 

“I’m a pebble, mistress,” said the creature. “I am here to serve you. You asked a question, so I answered you.” 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Connie said, frowning at the little pebble. She was really quite sweet upon closer inspection. 

“Mistress?” The pebble asked. Connie nodded. “Because you are my mistress. This house belongs to you, and I am here to serve. Tonight I will take you to your bedroom, and you will meet your husband.” 

“M-my husband? I’m not married!” 

“Of course you are, mistress. Are you not dressed for the wedding?” 

“I’m dressed for my funeral,” Connie corrected. “I was told I was marrying a monster.” 

The pebble shook her tiny head. “He is your husband.” 

“Who is he?” 

“The master of this house.” 

“Can I get a name?” Connie asked. 

The pebble thought about it and offered. “Master?” 

Connie sighed. “Alright, thank you, Pebble. I’ll have to find out on my own.” 

“I live to serve, mistress.” The pebble bowed and disappeared into the floor. 

Connie blinked and decided not to question it. It certainly wasn’t the strangest thing to happen today.

* * *

Connie’s heart was hammering in her chest as the pebble led her down the hallway towards her bedroom. If she was going to be eaten by a monster, this was when it was going to happen—the part where she was taken in by the beautiful house and the charming pebble-servants and let her guard down. 

“Your master’s not a monster, right?” Connie whispered to the pebble. 

“He is your husband,” the pebble said again which didn’t really answer her question. 

She steeled her spine as the pebble led her to a large, arch-shaped door. 

“This is your room, mistress. He will meet you inside.” 

Biting her lip, Connie gathered her courage and put her hand on the doorknob. With a deep breath, she turned it and pushed open the door. 

It was a bedroom. A luxurious and comfortable bedroom with a huge king size canopy bed and a fluffy shag rug, but a bedroom nonetheless. There was nothing particularly scary about it, and Connie took comfort in that fact. It was hard to imagine a monster eating her in a room as nice as this. 

She took a cautious step inside and was relieved when the pebble followed her. The pebble led her to an armoire that was nestled against the wall, and several more pebbles burst out of the wall to open it. They started pulling clothes out, beautiful and fine clothes in every shade imaginable. 

“Which one, mistress?” asked the pebbles. 

Connie was so overwhelmed it took her a moment to respond, but eventually, she picked a light blue night dress. It was made of the softest blue silk she’d ever felt, but that wasn’t why she’d picked it. It had a skirt that went to her knees in case she needed to run. 

Thus prepared to run (or fight) if she needed to, she climbed into the bed and waited. 

The pebbles all left, turning out the lights as they did so, and then she was alone, in the dark. It was pitch black. She couldn’t see a thing, and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her heart in her ears and then—

The opening and closing of a door. Footsteps, as of bare feet, shuffling along the shag carpet. The creak of the bed as it adjusted to new weight. She was no longer alone. 

“Hi,” came a voice. 

Connie startled. Not because the voice was scary, but because it was so normal. It sounded just like a young man, one who couldn’t be much older than she was. 

“I’m sorry about all the weirdness,” the voice went on. “But trust me, it’s for both of our safety.” 

“Safety?” Connie stammered. “What are— Are you the master of the house?” 

“Did the pebbles tell you that?” he said. “I told them to stop calling me master, but they don’t listen. But yeah, this is my house, and… it’s yours now too.” To Connie’s surprise, he sounded almost shy. Not monstrous at all. 

“It’s my house?” 

“I made it for us,” he said. It was strange to have a conversation in the dark. She couldn’t see his face. She couldn’t even make out his shape. But his voice was so kind and sweet that she started to trust him despite herself. 

“You _made_ it for _us_?” She gaped at him though he couldn’t see it. “Why did you do that?” 

“To keep us both safe,” he answered. “I’ve uh… been watching for you a while now,” he admitted sheepishly. “N-not in a weird way, I promise! But uh, your parents were looking for someone to marry you to, but they couldn’t find anyone who met their standards, and I saw you and I thought—I’d like to do it. Marry you, that is.” 

“Just from seeing me?” she said. Her heart was beating quickly in a different way than before. This man couldn’t be a monster… He was too awkward and gentle. 

“N-no, not just that. Though you are—very pretty.” 

She blushed. It was hidden in the darkness, but she thought maybe he was blushing too. 

“It’a because… you’re like me, aren’t you, Connie? You’ve been alone all your life. No friends, no one to love you… Just your parents’ expectations of who you should be. I’ve been alone too. I was thinking maybe… We could be alone… together?” 

She felt a pang in her chest. When he said he’d been alone too, she could tell he meant it. Maybe he did understand. Maybe… 

“What’s your name?” she asked. “You called me by mine. What’s yours?” 

“I can’t—I can’t tell you.” He sounded pained and apologetic, like it was really troubling him that he couldn’t answer her question. 

“Why not?” she said, frustrated. 

“I’m not supposed to… You can’t find out who I am. No one can know, or we won’t be allowed to see each other. It has to be secret.”

Connie frowned. “Is that why I can’t see you?” 

“My identity has to be a secret, but I promise I love you,” he said earnestly. “I’ll be a good husband. I’ll do anything I can to make you happy here. Just ask. Really.” 

“Do you really—Do you really love me?” she said, shocked. 

“Of course I do!” he exclaimed. “You’re so smart and brave and kind and pretty…” 

“Brave?” she laughed. “How am I brave?” 

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he said. 

“Your lion scared me half to death,” she said, trying not to laugh again. 

Her husband did laugh, a sound so cheerful it was enough to bring a smile to her face. “But you’re still here! Even though Lion scared you, you made it here, and I saw you studying philosophy so I know you’re smart, and you’ve been so nice to me even though I must’ve scared you to death with the lion and the pebbles and everything, and I know you’re pretty because—well, I have eyes.” 

She shook her head, amused. “You’re silly. What am I going to call you if I can’t know your name?” 

“You can—you can call me anything you want… h-husband, maybe?” Now she was certain he was blushing. 

What an enigma he was! So sweet and awkward, and yet almost certainly powerful to be master of such an amazing house. He was so stranger and yet… She was fascinated by him. 

To her surprise, she felt oddly relaxed. Maybe it was just the comfort of the bed which was amazingly soft, but something about the presence of this stranger put her at ease. It was almost like while she was with him, she _was_ the brave and beautiful individual he thought she was. 

“Alright, husband,” she said. “I believe you.” 

“You do? You’ll stay?” He sounded shocked and delighted, like he hadn’t believed this would really work. 

“Yes, I’ll stay,” she said. “It’s not like I have anything to return to back home.” 

She felt fingers brush her hand, and she gasped quietly in surprise. 

“It’s me,” he said gently. “Can I—?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed. 

He took her hand in his. It felt as soft and human as any other hand. Its only distinguishing feature was being broader and warmer than her own thin, cold fingers. 

“See?” he said, like he could read her thoughts. “There’s nothing scary about me.” 

“You do seem to have pretty normal hands,” she said, smiling. 

“The rest of me is pretty normal too,” he promised. “I don’t want you to be afraid. I want you to be happy.” 

Her heart fluttered. He was…surprisingly thoughtful. He said he loved her. He wanted her to be happy and comfortable. That was more than she could’ve hoped for in any husband her parents would have found for her. 

“You’re doing pretty good so far,” she admitted. 

“Really?” he said hopefully. 

“Yeah,” she said. She trailed her hand up his arm, feeling smooth skin and a dusting of hair. A perfectly normal arm. So what was he hiding? 

He sighed happily. “I’m so glad. Okay, I’m going to lie down next to you now, but I’m not going to touch you without asking or anything.” 

There was the sound of rustling sheets and the creak of a bed frame, and then she was vaguely aware of a warm presence beside her in the bed, a few inches away. 

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

“Of course!” he said. “Do you need anything?” 

“I… don’t think so,” said Connie. “Your pebbles took good care of me. What’s up with them anyway?” 

“The pebbles?” he said. “Oh, they work here. If you need anything during the day, they can help you. Aren’t they cute?” 

“They _are_ pretty cute,” Connie admitted. “Where did they come from?” 

He hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t tell you…” 

“Aw, c’mon!” she said, disappointed. “ _Husband_ …”

“Okay, okay! I made them. Don’t ask me how!” 

She gaped. Then she sighed. “Okay, what can we talk about? If we’re going to be married, I want to know _something_ about my husband.” 

“Um… I have a pet lion, you met him already. His name is Lion.” 

“You have a lion named Lion?” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I named him when I was little,” he said with a sheepish laugh. 

Connie smiled. “I like it. My parents never let me have a pet. They said it was too much work.” 

“Lion can be yours now too,” he said. “I think he likes you.” 

“You do?” 

“Definitely.” Connie heard a sound like a yawn, and then he said. “I’m glad this went well. I’m going to sleep now. Good night, Connie. I love you.” 

Heat flooded her face. “Good night, husband.” 


	2. Jam Buds

Life in the beach house was… _nice_. It was really nice. Every morning, she woke up and the pebbles would make her something for breakfast. Sometimes Lion would be there to lick her face or nap aloofly in the corner. She would spend the whole day doing whatever she wanted in a gorgeous mansion on the beach, free from any expectations or responsibilities. 

But the best part was come nightfall when her husband returned. He was sweet and charming and funny and kind… Not at all like she had expected. She had never thought of who she would like to marry in a perfect world, but if she had, she thought she would’ve come up with someone like him. He made her feel like she was enough on her own, no need for improvement—no, more than that. He made her feel _special_ which was strange because she wasn’t special at all, but he was. 

For the first time in her life, Connie didn’t feel alone. Even when her husband wasn’t with her, she felt comforted by the knowledge that he loved her. What an incredible person he must be to give love so easily and so wholeheartedly. She really enjoyed spending time with him. 

The bedroom had quickly stopped seeming scary. Now it was cozy and familiar, even with the lights off. She was curled up on the bed, feeling warm and safe, waiting for the sound of footsteps on shag carpet that indicated her husband had arrived. 

He never kept her waiting long as if he was excited to see her as she was to see him. Though “see” was meant metaphorically. She still didn’t know what he looked like beyond that he was stocky and broad-shouldered while she was tall and thin, and that he had short curly hair and felt entirely human to her knowledge. 

“Good evening, Connie,” he said, padding across the room and climbing into bed beside her. 

“Good evening, husband,” she said with a smile. 

“It makes me happy when you call me that,” he said. 

“You’re a romantic,” she surmised. She’d suspected as much. Who else would do all of this for the sake of love? 

He laughed, a bit shy. “Well, I’ve always dreamed about getting married,” he said. “When I was a kid. What did you dream about?” 

“Not getting married. That was always something I dreaded. I thought my parents were going to marry me off to some horrible old king I hated.” She shuddered. 

“Oh.” He sounded sad. “You don’t hate me, do you?” 

“Of course not, silly!” she said, shocked he would even have to ask. 

“I just—don’t want you to be unhappy here,” he said, “with me.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m happy here! I don’t _hate_ you. I _love_ you,” she said without thinking. The words had just poured from her mouth unbidden like water from a spring. 

“You do?” he whispered. 

“Of course I do,” she said softly. “How could I not love you? You’re so kind and funny and sweet. And you’ve been so respectful of my boundaries and attentive to my needs… I’ve never met anyone like you.” 

For a moment all was silent but the beat of her pounding heart as she worried over her words. Had she said something wrong? But every word had felt true as it tripped off her tongue. 

“You can’t see me but… I’m really happy right now,” her husband said. His voice revealed the truthfulness of his statement. It was choked by tears and watery laughter. 

“I wish I could see you,” she said. “Then I could see how happy you are for myself.” 

“I know,” he said quietly. “But Connie, it isn’t safe.” 

“Why not?” she demanded. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Of course I trust you! If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be here at all. It’s for your safety as much as mine.” 

“What are you talking about?” She didn’t understand. She didn’t believe he was lying, but she didn’t understand what he meant. She wasn’t in any danger. 

“Can you trust me? Please?” She felt his hands reach out and take hers in the dark. His warm, soft hands held hers tightly, reassuringly. 

“I _want_ to trust you,” she said. “But I don’t even know who you are.” 

“Yes, you do,” he insisted. “You know all of the important parts of me.” He raised her hands gently to his invisible lips and kissed them. “You know that I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.” 

She believed him. Her brain shouted at her that this was pure foolishness, but her heart, her traitorous heart, believed every word, and she trusted him. She leaned forward, knowing he would be there to catch her, and he was. She rested her head on his shoulder, felt his broad arms wrap around her thin frame. “You promise?” she whispered. 

“I promise,” he breathed in her ear. “We can be happy together. You can’t find out who I am.” 

“Okay,” she said. Her voice was as quiet as a breeze. “Will you kiss me?” 

He inhaled sharply. She felt his hands on her face, gently turning her head, and then— 

Soft lips kissing hers. A feeling of great warmth rising up from her stomach into her heart. The taste of sweetness. He was so tender, almost cautious, but it made her tingle all the way down to her toes. She rested her hands against his broad chest, steadying herself. Her head was swimming. 

He pulled away. “How was that?” he said softly. 

Her heart thudded wildly. “Incredible,” she said. 

“Can we do it again?” 

“Please,” she said and leaned forward to kiss him again.

* * *

She was walking along the beach, feeling the sand between her toes and throwing treats to Lion, when she heard it. At first, she was sure she was imagining it—a subconscious manifestation of her own paranoia. But then she heard it again. 

_Connie? Connie, where are you?!_

The voice… It was distant, almost indecipherable, but she could’ve sworn— 

She brought it up her to husband that night. “No one can find us here, right?” 

“No,” he said. “Nobody but me.” 

“I keep hearing voices,” she said. “Like someone’s looking for me? It sounds like… It sounds like my _mom_.” 

“You think she’s looking for you?” 

“I think so,” Connie said. “Husband, if she is, you have to let me see her! She needs to know I’m okay!” 

“Connie, that’s really dangerous…” He sounded anxious. 

“What’s dangerous about it?! It’s my mother!” After all this time together, she still didn’t understand why he insisted on all this secrecy. He still wouldn’t tell her what they were hiding from! 

“It’s not her,” he said desperately. “If you go outside, I won’t be able to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to bear it if—if—“ 

“Protect me from what?” She pleaded. “Please, tell me!” 

He sighed, sounding defeated. “I—There’s a goddess after you.” 

“A g-goddess?” she stammered. “Who?” 

“It’s not safe to say her name… It might attract her attention.” He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “But she’s powerful. Really powerful.” 

“But why does she have it out for _me_?” Connie said. “I’m nothing special.” 

“I think you are,” he said softly. She felt the ghost of a kiss brush her forehead. 

“Connie,” he said. “I’ll look for your mom. If she’s in the area, I’ll find her. She can come visit you here, but _please_ don’t tell her anything about me.” 

She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you, husband.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be safe,” he said.

* * *

The next morning when she woke up, he was gone, just like he always was, and just like she always did, she reached over to find her glasses and put them on. But today she paused and blinked, her vision blurring as she squinted through glasses that were much too strong. 

She took them off again, and her vision cleared. She put them back on, and everything went fuzzy. She took them off and set them aside, thinking hard. 

“Husband, what did you do?” she said aloud. 

He didn’t reply, of course. He was long gone. But this had to be his doing. She’d ask him about it tonight. 

In the meantime, she dressed and went to breakfast. The pebbles were happy to see her as always, and she laughed as one of them climbed into her hair and started braiding it. 

She was reading in the front room, taking in the sunlight through the window, when one of the pebbles approached her that afternoon. 

“Mistress Connie!” said the little creature. 

Connie looked up from her book. “What is it?” 

“You have a visitor, mistress! The master just sent the word. The lion will bring her to meet you on the beach.” The pebble smiled and bowed. 

Connie jumped up from her seat, setting her book aside. “Oh, thank you, Pebble!” She rushed out the front door and down the steps to the beach. She looked all around but didn’t see anything but the endless blue waves and then— 

A burst of light and a flash of pink, and Lion appeared, suspended halfway through a portal, and then landing lightly on the beach with a woman on his back. The woman was tall and thin with Connie’s long dark hair and a serious expression. Connie recognized her instantly and ran across the sand to embrace her as the woman slid off Lion’s back. 

“Mom!” 

“Connie!” Queen Priyanka held her tight and then drew back to hold her at arm’s length, looking her over. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt? What’s going on?” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine, Mom,” Connie said. “I’m safe.” 

“What _is_ this place?” her mom demanded. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“ _Yes_ , Mom,” Connie said. “I’m totally okay. This is my home now.” 

“Your… home?” 

“This is my husband’s house,” Connie said. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

* * *

“I don’t know about this, Connie,” Queen Priyanka said. They were in Connie’s favorite sitting room—the one with floor to ceiling shelves stacked full of books. Connie was perched in an arm chair with her mother seated opposite her while a pebble served them drinks. 

“Don’t know about what?” Connie asked. She feared she knew what her mother meant, but she was going to make her say it. 

“I don’t know about you living here with this—this _man_.” She said the word like she meant another one. 

“He’s my husband,” Connie said, crossing her arms. “And he’s been good to me. That’s more than I can say for any of the men you introduced me to.” 

Queen Priyanka pursed her lips. “Be that as it may, who even _is_ he?” 

“I—well, I don’t exactly know but—“ 

“You don’t _know_?!” Her mother gaped in horror. “How can you not know? You said he was your husband!” 

“I may not know his name or what he looks like!” Connie said. “But I know that he’s kind and caring and gentle!” 

“That’s not enough, Connie!” her mother said in pained exasperation. 

“He said he would never do anything to hurt me, and I believe him! Why can’t you just trust my judgement?” Connie shouted. 

“He could be anyone!” Her mother cried. “I’m worried about you!” 

“You don’t need to worry about me! I’m fine!” Connie said. 

“How can you be sure? He could be a _monster_ , Connie,” Queen Priyanka fretted. “That’s what the prophecy said. You can’t possibly be safe here.” 

“He’s not a monster,” Connie insisted. He didn’t feel like one or act like one. He was a sweet, lovely man. She was sure of it. 

“Have you _seen_ him?” 

Slowly, she shook her head. “We only meet when it’s dark…” she admitted. 

“That settles it,” her mother said. “You’re coming home with me.” 

“You can’t do that!” Connie cried. “This is my home now! What if—What if I can prove he’s not a monster?” 

Queen Priyanka paused. “How?” 

“After he falls asleep… I’ll get a lantern and look at him. If you’re right and he’s a monster, I’ll go home with you, but if he’s not, you have to let me stay,” Connie said quickly, hoping against hope that she was right, that her mom would _listen_. 

Queen Priyanka nodded slowly. “Alright, but stay safe. Take a weapon with you in case you need to defend yourself.” 

Connie sighed and nodded. “Deal.”

* * *

“Connie!” her husband said as he crawled in bed beside her. “How was your day? Did you get to see your mom?” 

She smiled and curled up against him. His presence soothed her fraught nerves. “I did. It was nice but… I forgot how much my mom can be.” 

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Yeah, moms can be like that. I remember one time my mom—“ He broke off. 

Connie blinked. “Your mom?” she prompted. 

“She can be a lot too,” he said quietly. He was silent for a moment, but Connie didn’t dare speak. She could practically hear the cogs turning in his mind. 

“Can you keep a secret?” he said. 

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “Who am I going to tell? The pebbles?” 

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.” 

“Is that the secret?” she teased. 

He laughed again. “No, well…” He became more serious. “It’s not the secret I was going to tell you.” 

“Then what is?” she said. 

“About… my mom,” he said hesitantly. “I think you should know. She’s the one who’s after you.” 

“W-wait,” Connie stammered. “I thought you said that person was a goddess.” 

He was silent. Connie’s mind was racing. “Your mom is a goddess?” 

“…she is.” 

“Then you’re a—“ Her husband interrupted her before she could say _god_. 

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded. 

“But why not?” she said. This was great news. He wasn’t a monster at all. 

“I don’t want you to think of me like that,” he said. “I want us to be equals… partners. Like jam and biscuits.” 

She grinned. “Jam and biscuits?” 

“Yeah! They’re both good on their own, but they’re better together!” 

She leaned against him, soaking up his warmth. “Husband, that’s so cute, but you’re keeping me in the dark about who you are.” 

“I know,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder. “I promise… it won’t be forever.” 

“You’ll let me see you?” she said. 

“Someday. When I’m ready.” 

She sighed and wrapped her arm around his invisible broad shoulders. “Okay,” she said, feeling oddly reassured. She thought she understood him a lot better now. She just had to confirm for her mother that he wasn’t a monster and then everything would be well. 

"Did anything else exciting happen today?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“Well, now that you mention it,” she said. “My eyesight did mysteriously improve over night. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?” She was grinning. 

“Oh!” He paused. “Did I do that? Sorry, it was an accident.” 

“You just accidentally healed my eyes?” She teased. 

He laughed sheepishly. “Y-yeah, that happens sometimes. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Are you kidding?” she said. “That’s so cool!”

They chatted for a few more minutes, and then he kissed her goodnight. She waited and waited until she was sure he was fast asleep and then slowly, cautiously, she disentangled herself from his embrace and crept to her bedside cabinet where she’d stored a lantern earlier that day. 

She knew he didn’t want her to see him yet, but this was only going to be a quick peek. He didn’t even have to know. It was just to reassure her mom—and admittedly to satisfy her own curiosity. She couldn’t help it. She hated not knowing what the man she loved looked like, and now that she knew he wasn’t a man but a _god_ , her curiosity had only grown. 

She couldn’t believe a god could be in love with her. She had to see this for herself. 

Quietly, carefully, she struck a match and lit the lantern, kneeling on the shag rug beside her bed. Then, heart pounding in her chest, drawing a nervous breath through her parted lips, she raised the lantern and stood. 

Curled up in the center of the bed, fast asleep, was a young man. He was beautiful. Soft raven hair curled gently on his head. His face was the picture of cherubic beauty. He was wearing only a pair of shorts, and a pink gemstone glinted on his navel—the mark of a deity. The only thing that spoiled the image were two long thin scars down his back, like someone had taken two jagged knives down either shoulder blade. 

Connie gasped. Her knees were weak. The hand holding the lantern shook. He was a god. He was beautiful. And more importantly, she recognized him from the stories. A young man with a pink gemstone on his navel and two thin scars on his back. 

“Steven Quartz,” she whispered. That was her husband’s name. The son of the goddess Pink Diamond. That meant—oh gods. Pink Diamond was after her. She fell to her knees with a thud. 

The bed creaked, and Connie’s heart stopped beating. Her husband was awake. 

“Connie?” he croaked, gazing at her with dark, heartstoppingly beautiful eyes.

“I-I’m sorry!” she cried and threw herself on the ground. 

He looked down at himself, entirely visible in the light of the lantern, and then back at her. “You—you saw me. You broke my trust!” 

“Steven, I—“ 

“You know who I am?” he said, horror writ plain on his handsome face. He jumped out of bed—straight up in the air, hanging in space near the ceiling. “Go away! Don’t look!” 

“Steven, wait!” Connie climbed to her feet and reached out to him, but he darted away. 

“No! Don’t talk to me!” In the flickering light of the lantern, she could see panic on his face. He touched down in front of the door and ran out of the room. Connie took off after him, shouting his name. 

She could still see him at the end of the hall, but then she blinked and he was gone. No mortal could move that fast. “Steven?” She shouted. “Husband?” 

She received no response. Her heart faltered in her chest. _No, no, no, no, no_. He couldn’t be _gone_. But there was no sign of him, and as she ran through the house, increasingly panicked, the walls starts to fade, becoming translucent and vague like mist on the horizon. 

She started to cry. When her tears dried up, she was sitting in the grass. No sign of the beach, no sign of the house, and no sign of her husband. 


End file.
